


Boston Defiant

by mythtakenforastory



Series: Boston the City [3]
Category: Cities!verse (Fandom), Paris Burning (thecitysmith)
Genre: Foul Language, Gen, Paris Burning, brief mention of death, description of real-life violent event, mention of hospitals, semi-descriptive blood/gore/injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythtakenforastory/pseuds/mythtakenforastory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boston the City in the immediate aftermath of the Boston Marathon explosions.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Salem knew immediately.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Boston Defiant

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [Tumblr](http://mythtakenforastory.tumblr.com/post/48709131340/boston-defiant) on 4/23/13. 
> 
> Check out [thecitysmith](thecitysmith.tumblr.com) or the "paris burning" tag on Tumblr for more awesomeness in this 'verse.
> 
> ~~~  
> Inspired by thecitysmith's headcanon that twin cities will die together.

Salem knew immediately.

 

It was a thing that happened with Twin Cities, this mirroring connection of pain and tragedy that left copies of one twin’s scars on the other’s body.  

So when the bombs go at the Marathon, twin screams echo through Massachusetts as blood and burns erupt on their legs. 

Boston goes  _down_ , hard, because she was there at that finish line, cheering on her runners, and so the bombs managed to hurt her body along with her streets. She screams, louder than the explosion almost, as she topples, because  _she is hurting her people are hurting some little **fucker**_   _used this amazing tradition to make a fucking **point** and  **that’s not fucking allowed**._   _You do not fuck with Boston._  (But somebody has. Somebody has used this ritual, this memorial, as a staging ground and she screams; a mournful wail and a pained screech and an infuriated bellow and a  _sorry, sister._ ) 

~~~

Salem’s wounds are more superficial, being the twin and not the victim, so she is able to travel after some hours. She rushes to her sister, smashing through the citywide lockdown, almost punching the police officers who stopped her in her frantic desire to get to Boston. (She hates pulling the “don’t you know who I am” card, but if there’s a silver lining to her post-breakdown reputation, it’s that people get wary when she looks unstable and tend to let her have her way.)

She barrels into Boston’s hospital room and chokes. Her sister is lying facedown on the bed, covers pulled free from her lower legs to keep the burns free. They look ugly, weeping slightly through the bandages because of the severity. (Salem’s own legs are red and blistered and cracked; her sister’s must be horrid.)

It is with relief and fear and anxiety that Salem collapses into a chair at Boston’s bedside and seizes her hand. She will wait here until her sister wakes. (“ _Don’t you dare leave me, Boston. Don’t you fucking dare_.”)

~~~

Boston stirs some time later (Salem hasn’t been keeping track) and groans in pain. Some of her people have died. She can feel it. Oh (ow), there’s also been another fire. Lovely. Goddammit. 

“Th’fy th’fugrzye?”

“Boston? You’re awake!” Salem feels a rush of relief down her spine. “Oh thank God. What did you say?”

“D’ they find the fuckers yet?” Boston croaks.

“Not yet that I’ve seen. Water?”

“Yeah. Any news?”

“They’ve put you on lockdown. Nobody in or out. There’s a massive manhunt going on.”

“Good. Teach them not to fuck with fucking Boston.” Boston bares her teeth in a grin. (It is one of those few times she most resembles London, teeth bared in some half-inherited ferocity. Because you  _don’t_ fuck with Boston.)

(A week later, Boston will stand again. Thank you letters to Damascus and London have been posted, as well as notes to Chicago and New York City and Washington DC and all of her many cousin Cities.)

(And she is so, so proud of her Beantown boys and girls, because when disaster struck, their spines were straighter and stronger and prouder than ever. You don’t fuck with Boston. Because neither the City nor the people have time for your shit.)


End file.
